Legends of the Forgotten
by Blanc Expression
Summary: Whether you heard of them or not, they were brushed aside. And now... they are revealed. Here are the stories of those who were forgotten. One-shots. HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: Whether you heard them or not, they were brushed aside. And now… they are revealed. These are the stories of those who were forgotten. **

I, Blanc, do not own Warriors. Erin Hunter does.

**CH 1: Kings and Queens**

They think they're oh-so-clever, living wild in that savage forest of theirs, claiming to be the powerful ones, the great ones, the ones who know the ways of old. They hold their heads high, disregard all.

They narrow their eyes at us in disdain, even as they tread in our territory as trespassers, slinking in the shadows, running away in terror at the slightest movement from our harmless house folks as they travel, mewing about nonsense ("StarClan, save us!" What the hell is StarClan?). They think they are great, and we are inferior, lazy, and are soft. They think we are the ones who have grown ignorant, but it is they.

But as they rule their forest, we rule ours.

Yes, I am what the Clan cats call a _kittypet_.

No, I am not soft.

No, I do not think the Clans eat bones (That's just a silly tale our mothers' scare us with… it never really affected the smart ones, which include me.).

No, I'm not fat.

NO, I'm not as lazy as _they_ say I am.

When a wild cat hears the word "kittypet", they automatically wrinkle their noses in disgust.

When a civilized cat hears the word "wild cat", we spit on the ground (and the dumb ones squeak in terror. It's just the bad luck the wild cats meet the dumb ones.).

Because if they were thrusted into the world where "monsters" are everywhere, stupid dogs running around, the music of everyday human life in all places, they will run like the cowards they are. They do not know the ways in our kingdom, our world, and are lost kits in the wide, lonely world.

They have no knowledge, and are stuck in their small patch in the forest. They're stupid. They claim to be intelligent. They claim to be smart. We are the smart ones. We know the ways; we know more than they do.

We know where the big dogs and the harmless dogs lay.

We know where the best scraps are.

We know which humans to avoid, which not to avoid.

_They_ don't know.

_We_ know.

And we know music and dance, knowledge, and power.

**Music and Dance:** it's all around us. When a human bangs the trash can, it's a low, echoing sound. When the wind sighs and rustles the leaves, it's a soft whisper calling our name. And the best music is the type when the humans play their funny things they call instruments. It creates a beautiful, liquid sound. Music is everywhere, and the wild cats are just too arrogant to hear it. Do they even know the word "music"? Have they stopped to listen to the beautiful sounds everywhere?

Uh… _no_. You see, they do not stop. They go on, fretting about this and that, while we, sit, close our eyes, and appreciate the sounds of music (some wild cats interpret this as a lazy snooze for fat pussycats.). Even the smallest kit knows music.

And what about dance? Every paw step is akin to a melody, a song. To explore your world in dancing steps grander than just padding around.

**Knowledge:** Sure, they know about this mouse, that rabbit, whatever. But we have real knowledge. When to hide, when to move, when to smell, when to see. Okay, they know that too (which cat doesn't?). But do they know how to use it? Bah, only to hunt and fight, which is completely vulgar. They have knowledge over the forest, we have knowledge…

…Everywhere. We know music. We know humans. We know dogs. We know rats. We know rodents. We know the things that fly and soar. We know delight. We know sadness. We know loss. We know things they do not know. They have only a short amount of knowledge, stuck in their own sense of heaven.

Don't you see? They're locked up, thinking they're the best. We see, we learn. We drink in the new things, while they stick to their old traditions, never expanding. They believe that they are the best, and do not expand, nor search for new knowledge. They'll crumble to dust one day.

**Power:** We have power. We have power over the streets, while they govern their puny forest. Their territory is small to where they live. Imagine you have ten mice. Nine of them are white, one of them is brown. They are the brown. That is how small their forest is. Puny. So... who has more power? _Us._ We have knowledge and music too. _Done. End of discussion. _

If the wild cats move into our streets, they are lost. They will be small kits barely weaned, crying for their mother. They'll be lost in the smells, the sounds, and the taste of those who we are familiar to.

And yet, they sneer at us, stare down at us, spit at us, whisper about us behind our backs (we aren't deaf!) that we are fat a lazy.

They are lazy (but not fat… only some). They do not expand their knowledge, and stay in their puny forest.

We are the kings and queens of our world, our kingdom.

And frankly, they only rule the forest. We rule the other places.

Stupid, lazy, wild cats. It's only bad luck they meet the softest of our kind.


	2. Chapter 2

**CH 2: Outcasts**

"They drove us out! They conquer the land that is rightfully ours! They invade us, like insects! We must stamp them out!" A large male badger bellowed to a sea of badgers. Every single badger, from the youngest, barely weaned, to the old, toothless ones, were present, eyes fixed on the large badger on the silver rock. The badger shook with rage and passion. The moon was high, and it cast its ghostly glow onto the badgers, making them look silver and unearthly.

"That is our home! Not theirs! They have no right to come. Our fathers, our fathers' fathers, our fathers' fathers' fathers, our ancestors lived here for so many seasons. It was said that badgers once grew these giant oaks with their paws until they were sore and bleeding, that we lifted the sky until our limbs ached, and that thousands of badgers sacrificed their eyes to create the sun, moon, and stars. Those are our stories. We must fight for it!"

"Grrr_nayrrr_ is right!" An old, nearly all silver boar growled. "We have been driven out like scum. Nyyy_niii_, were you not chased out of your set, even when your children were there?" A slender sow nodded, her eyes glowing with hate. Her cubs were romping around, baring their teeth, echoing their mother's rage.

"Now we come as one!" Grrr_nayrrr_ roared. "Many generations ago, we broke up from our one large _cete_, for fear of hunger and war. Now, I, son of the Great Hun_yyyh_, Deliverer of our kind, ask you to join once more to kill this filth!" He was replied with a large roar of approval.

"We defend our homes!"

"We take back what is ours!"

"Think of our cubs! Do you want them to live here, banished from our homes?"

Soon they were all chanting the old war cry, which had not been uttered for many seasons. Every badger was joining in the chant, and it grew steadily louder. "We kill! Kill! The enemy must die! Kill! Kill! KILL! Blood! Kill!" They were stamping their paws, baring their fangs, determined to win back their land.

"STOP!" Everybeast stopped chanting for a moment, stunned by the ferocity of the voice. A bush nearby rustled, and another badger came out. It was a female with bright berry eyes. Her paws were well worned, a sign of a weary traveler, and her stripes gray with old age.

"Mrrr_yaaah_…" Grrrnay_rrr _purred.

"Mrrr_yaaah_ my name no longer. Midnight I am." The badgers took a step back from the newcomer like she was crowfood. She had a peculiar way of speaking their native language, as if the lack of use made her lose her native tongue. It had a rather nasal quality to it. Grrrnayrrr shook his head in disgust.

"You lose your sense, your being of badger," he snarled.

"Brother…"

"Do not call me brother! I have no elder sister!" he shrieked. Many gasped. To renounce one's own family was a vulgar thing to do. But many were nodding. Apparently, Midnight was not very popular. "From the day you left our family to seek 'greater knowledge', our family have turned their backs onto you."

Midnight's posture betrayed no emotion, but her eyes were pained. "True that so, I see I am no longer welcomed in your brethren. Thistles for brains, I warn thee, lose you shall."

"You dare to say such things, Mrrr_yaaah_?" Grrna_yrrr_ hissed.

"Dare I, for 'tis the truth." Midnight stared at the badgers solemnly, and they shielded away, muttering among themselves in fear or contempt.

"You have forgotten the old stories, my daughter," an old sow croaked. She was in the very likeness of Midnight, but much older. She stepped out to meet her daughter. "Daughter, many moons have passed, and you have forgotten."

"Forgotten I have not, but learned the truth I have. Stories of falsehood, say I should."

Dina_lyyyi_ shook her ancient head, and spoke again, her melodious voice loud and clear. "Perhaps we shall recount them, hmm?

"The trees were withering before the badgers came. We have come from the Great Cold, hungry and unhealthy from our great journey. The Land of Everlasting Cold was slowly getting colder, and many cubs died that moon. Thus, we moved. As we trudged on, we came upon this great, fruitful land. Ah, it was boutiful!

"The trees and plants rejoiced, and the birds sang their melodies when we made this our home. Cubs thrived, and the winters were like the mild spring in the Land of Everlasting Cold.

"Besides bring our families here, we have also brought out talent. Our gift of singing to the trees."

The badgers were all closing their eyes, listening to the great voice that soared and touched their hearts, swaying back and forth. Except Midnight. She listened without joy, and narrowed her eyes a boredom.

"We sing to the trees and earth of beauty, joy, mercy, and grace. Our songs are here, the music is ours, and ours to share.

"And so don't you see? Without us, the land will die."

Midnight's own voice broke the spell. "Thistledown."

"Not thistledown, daughter, but truth and tradition."

Midnight narrowed her eyes. "Understand not I. Land is great and vast. Why fight over little land lost?"

Grrna_yyyr_ spoke in his deep growling voice. "Did not you hear? This land will, die, and your beloved little kitties will too."

His sister finally bowed her head. "Persuade not can I. But listen!; shed will blood, and loss is great." With that, the banished badger disappeared back into the forest.

Grrna_yyyr _hissed profanities under his breath before addressing the badgers again. "Blasphemy she speaks. Do not listen, for her mind is not working right. We will win. Join with me as we take back our land again! Join as one; join as a _cete _once more!" He was met with loud roars of approval.

And nobody noticed the old female badger,Dina_lyyyi_, as she started humming softly, eyes closed in concentration. The wind picked up, and the trees and wildflowers swayed gently in the new breeze. Whether the wind was a coincidence or not, Dina_lyyyi_'s song was a mixture of blessings and curses for the war.

Midnight trudged through the grass, making not a sound. She sensed the wind blowing her direction, and a scent she recognized was there too.

_Small warrior._ She recognized the scent, even though the last time they met it was moons ago. There was another cat with him, and female, but that did not matter.

_Must warn small warrior._ Her pace quicken, and so did her heart.

_Must._

_Warn._

_Now._


	3. Chapter 3

**I do not own Warriors. Sentiments **

**This has slight WhiteXBirch, and a totally Slut!Daisy. I do not like her, but just feel pity for her messed up love life. However, this one will be an exception, where all Daisy-haters can gather around and plot her death. This has slight mature themes, beware!**

**Flames are welcomed, please review harshly.**

**Ch 3: Innocence**

"_Ahem._ Wake up."

A shaft of morning light pierced the dark hollow, and something prodded Whitepaw's belly. The snowy-white apprentice groaned, and rolled away before sitting up lethargically. Through half-closed green eyes, Whitepaw blinked sleepily and yawned, revealing rows of sharp teeth, nearly the same shade as her fur.

"Wuzgoinon?" She mewed, yawning again, and squinted at the cat who woken her up, rather grouchily.

Brackenfur waited patiently for her to be fully conscious, his body blocking the sun as the rays outlined his golden-brown fur. "It's time to train."

"Just a few more heartbeats," Whitepaw begged, flopping back down into her cozy nest. "Please?"

"Whitepaw," Brackenfur meowed firmly, "Get up. Remember, the early cat…"

"…gets the mouse," Whitepaw muttered, rolling her eyes. Her mentor was full of the wise sayings that frankly, young cats found particularly boring. Although slightly mutinous, Whitepaw clambered out of her nest, shaking the moss out of her fur.

Moments later, Whitepaw was tracking down a mouse, her brain full with the advice of her mentor. _Step lightly…_ Whitepaw grinned. This was way too easy. She's been hunting mice ever since she was a new apprentice. All she have to do is…

She suddenly paused in her careful walking. Her sharp nose picked up a scent in the air, and the smell of mouse was coming in her direction. Smiling, Whitepaw lowered herself to a crouch, ready to pounce…

"No, Daisy! You have to _attack_ me!" Hearing the voice, the mouse scurried away. Whitepaw spat angrily and turned towards the voice. She was about to burst from the bushes when she saw her father giving Daisy a private lesson.

_Why are they so far away from camp?_ Whitepaw wondered, and was about to greet them when she decided to watch. She could probably pick up some useful tips for her assessment. Although she knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, she had overheard Brackenfur discussing with Firestar about her becoming a warrior. Whitepaw sat down in the bush, and shook leaves out of her fur.

"But you'll be there is protect me," Daisy flirted, batting her eyelashes innocently. Cloudtail seemed to falter as the she-cat sidled up to Cloudtail and began grooming his fur.

Whitepaw mimed vomiting at her paws.

"What are you doing?" Whitepaw nearly screeched in terror, but reliezed a heartbeat later that it was just Birchpaw. His fur was fluffed up from excitement, and he stared at Whitepaw with questioning eyes.

"Great StarClan, be quiet!" Whitepaw mewed crossly, but was secretly impressed by his skills.

"'K," Birchpaw whispered. "What are you doing?" he asked again, and crouched next to Whitepaw, "Spying?"

"Nuuuuh," she protested, "it's called learning from your elders by watching _silently and carefully_… something you can't achieve."

Birchpaw ignored the last bit. "Whatever. See you around, Whitepaw." He nearly left when he suddenly spun around to add, "I won't tell anybody if you will tell me what they are doing." Whitepaw just rolled her eyes. Finally, the annoying tom left.

Whitepaw groaned, and went back spying… er, listening.

"Daisy, let's try that again. Remember; pack all your power... whoa, Daisy?" The she-cat was now nuzzling his chin, purring seductively. Cloudtail sighed, and began prying her off gently. But Daisy clung like a leech, squirming playfully.

"Do you like that?" She asked in a husky voice, and pinned the white warrior down on the forest floor.

Whitepaw stopped examining her claws, and stared in surprise. The whole camp knew that Daisy liked Cloudtail, but this was a bit far. Whitepaw tried to slip away as quickly as possible, but as she was going to, a thorn snagged at her fur. Whitepaw frozed. If she made any more movement, the older cats would surely hear her. Breathing shallowly, Whitepaw stood as still as possible.

Cloudtail closed his eyes, meowing tiredly, "Daisy. I was on patrol all day. Please don't…" his words were interrupted by a large yawn.

"Ooh, you poor baby," Daisy crooned, her muzzle traveling Cloudtail's body, "Is Brightheart comforting you?" Whitepaw hissed quietly, noting the disdainful tone in Daisy's words.

"Brightheart?"

"She's not exactly giving you the pleasure, is she?" Daisy smirked, and began caressing Cloudtail's face. Despite of his pride, Cloudtail moaned excitedly.

"Like that, hmm?" Daisy's tongue started traveling to Cloudtail's nether regions, giggling as Cloudtail responded again to her caressing touch. Eyes still closed, Cloudtail smiled in delight, moving his paws on her slender body.

Whitepaw did not care if they heard her. She had seen enough.

No. This can't be my father… Whitepaw broked free from the thorn, and blundered blindly away from the forest, relying only on her senses. She did not know how she found her way, but the next thing she knew, she was at the camp, panting from her escape. Her heart was thumping wildly as she rushed to the apprentice's den.

Whitepaw flopped down into her nest, choking back screams.

_My father would never cheat on his mate… my mother… Daisy… I hate her… my eyes… Great StarClan, what did I see?_ Whitepaw's thoughts were distorted, and she did not notice Birchpaw come in.

"Hey, I saved a mouse for ya… so what happened?" Birchpaw sat down next to Whitepaw and licked her ear in greeting.

Whitepaw nearly purred in response, but it got stuck in her throat. The gesture was too much like Daisy's lustful ones… her paws all over her father's body… and his paws on hers… Whitepaw frozed.

"Nothing happened, leave me alone!" Whitepaw snapped and scrambled away from Birchpaw. She did not meet his hurt eyes as she pretended to fall asleep in her nest.

_Nothing happened…_ Whitepaw squeezed her eyes shut, vowing to keep this to herself forever.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for not updating sooner. Writer's block. This was a pretty random chapter, done quickly after I remembered Fanfiction.**

**~Blanc**

**Ch 4: Sisters Care**

Ivyheart walked into the forest, and sat down, closing her eyes. The cool breeze soothed the chaos of her thoughts.

Her sister Dovewing was one of the Three. They have known it all their lives, been surrounded by the awed whispers ever since they were born. Everyone treated them with reverence, wondering which sister was the powerful one. Soon the Clans found out it was only Dovewing, and turned all their attention to her, praising the Fourth Apprentice. Only Birchfall occasionally murmured to Ivyheart that she was his favorite, his little girl.

Ivyheart shied away from it; Dovewing embraced it. Ivyheart was always the shy one hiding in the corner, and Dovewing was always the apprentice who was laughing with the others. Dovewing was popular, kind, pretty, loudmouthed, and brave. Ivyheart was not. When she was noticed, Ivyheart was complimented to be quiet, obedient, serious, cunning, and stately.

_After the sharp-eyed jay and the roaring lion, peace will come on dove's gentle wing…_ Ivyheart smiled bitterly as she remembered the prophecy her sister received. They knew it all their lives.

However, she knew Dovewing was not ready for the prophecy's burden. All Dovewing wanted was to become a mother of beautiful kits and have fun in life. She was not ready_. I am ready_, Ivyheart thought_. I had been ready ever since I took my first breath on this land. I am faster, stronger, and smarter. I can lead a battle, kill my enemies with a plan, last a siege, survive a famine…Really, I should be the one in the prophecy. _Ivyheart's claws dug into the soft dirt and she growled darkly. She wanted… she wanted to kill her sister. For moons, Hollyleaf and Tigerstar had visited her dreams. When the time was right, she will kill her sister. With the right powers from the Dark Forest, Dovewing's super hearing will be Ivyheart's.

"Ivyheart?" Ivyheart spun wildly and saw Dovewing staring at her.

"How did you find me?" she snapped.

"I heard you," Dovewing mewed simply. Ivyheart rolled her eyes.

Dovewing hesitated for a heartbeat, but then she sat next to her sister. Ivyheart tensed, but relaxed a moment later.

"Um… how are your kits?" Ivyheart asked, indicating to the swelling on Dovewing's stomach.

"Wonderful. It's amazing how much they can grow in a few moons," Dovewing replied.

"Mosspelt must be so proud," Ivyheart purred fakely, able to hide her hatred.

Dovewing seemed to hesitate before replying. Her quiet mew was slow and clear. "They aren't Mosspelt's."

"What?" Ivyheart spluttered. Mosspelt was Ivyheart's best friend… until all the toms went padding after Dovewing. Ivyheart had spent countless nights weeping, and it took just as long to get over it. "Aren't his kits?"

"No. Sister, remember Radius?"

"Duh," Ivyheart snorted, getting over her initial shock, "That crazy hairless tom who said we could once talk to mice and cats could fly in Twoleg things?" Then it hit Ivyheart. "No… they are his kits?"

Dovewing nodded. "He's not crazy. I believe him. I _love_ him." Ivyheart could hardly believe what she was hearing. "At sunset I will run away to meet him at the edge of our border."

"Why are you telling me this?" Ivyheart gasped.

Dovewing's eyes bore into hers. "I think you know the answer." Dovewing stood up. "Ivyheart, you and I both know that I could never be part of the Three. I do have the power, but I want my own life. Take care of the Clan for me, please. Good bye." Dovewing padded away, and the rays of the dying sun bathed her fur into some glowing beauty. Ivyheart sat there, watching her figure walk away until she could see no more.

Ivyheart was left with even more confusion, remorse, and sadness. Dovewing was a true sister. Swallowing painfully, Ivyheart admitted that she had been hateful to her sister. Yes, she was faster and stronger, but Dovewing had a heart that could love anyone. She had compassion.

So now her sister had left her a challenge. Tell the Clan before it was too late, or be loyal to her sister.

Speaking aloud, Ivyheart began, "I have always wronged you, sister. My heart was once like rock, but now I know. Sister, thank you. May safety be with you." Ivyheart continued in her mind. _I will not tell. I will guide my Clan for you. I will be wise. I will be strong._ She couldn't hate her sister anymore. She will keep her mouth shut about Dovewing until she and Radius were safely out of the Clan's territory. A feeling of peace stole over her, and she knew that she had her own life. Both of them were willing to let go of the propechy.

-----

"Fool!" Tigerstar screamed from the Dark Forest. Another chance of power… lost!

"Her judgement is clouded… by love," Hollyleaf spatted.

"She is no use," Tigerstar mused, "Kill her."

-----

Ivyheart's body was found by her mentor, Cinderheart. There was no sign of battle or blood, but it was clear that her heart had stopped pounding. Ivyheart's face was a mask of peace and determination.

Dovewing was never found.

Jayfeather walked around in the camp, his mind reeling. He knew that he and Lionblaze were not getting any younger. Time was running out, and whatever was going to happen was going to happen soon.

"StarClan, help us," he murmmured.

-----

Ivyheart woke up with a start. Her vision was foggy, but she still saw her surroundings rather clearly. She gritted her teeth and thought how Hollyleaf had killed her.

On her right were a bunch of starry cats. Ivyheart could make out some she had known; Firestar, who died from greencough when she was a kit, her own mother Whitewing, who looked healthier than the last time Ivyheart saw her.

"Mother?" she squeaked, and rushed towards the white she-cat. As quick as thought, two burly looking toms blocked her way. Ivyheart snarled at them incoherently.

"You cannot pass yet, Ivyheart," a musical voice mewed. It was Spottedleaf. "The living does not know, but once you have died. You have a choice. To either go to StarClan, the Dark Forest, or stay on Earth as a Spirit."

Ivyheart's head whirled with these choices.

"But we need you to be reincarnatinoed," Spottedleaf stated. "You do not have these choices.

"No!" Ivyheart hissed. "Did you know how much I hated living? I know StarClan exists, but you do nothing. You… you have no power! You stand their looking like pussies and sitting pretty with stars in your fur! You have no justice, no honor." Many cats hissed in surprise.

Spottedleaf's eyes seemed to droop in sadness. "If you refuse, we must send you down the pool by force. The Clans need you, Ivyheart!"

Ivyheart stared into Spottedleaf's eyes without flinching at the brightness. "If the Clans need me, I will come by myself. I do not need a bunch of weaklings to tell me what to do." She was surprised by her own boldness.

"Ivyheart, my child, no!" Whitewing cried. "Do you really want to go to the Dark Forest?"

"Mother… I do not, but there is another choice," Ivyheart meowed.

"You choose to be Spirit?" Spottedleaf asked, surprised. "You will still on Earth forever through all eternity, not able to be seen or heard. It is tiring, and a punishment."

"I do not choose there. I sense a fourth option," Ivyheart bartered.

There was a silence.

"The fourth option…" Spottedleaf began, and Ivyheart held her breath "Is the Quest."

"Then I accept the Quest," Ivyheart meowed calmly. She knew where she belonged now. _I am sorry, Dovewing, but this is my choice. The Clans are lost now. But we will be always sisters._


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm getting really random now… review are love!**

**To Allygirl56: It was kind of a cliffy/nothing really thing... sorry! I know how much people hate those.**

**~Blanc**

**Ch 5: Friends**

"Please, Falconcry."

"I told you, Darkwhisker, no."

A black she-cat bristled angrily at Falconcry. "Do you not see his pain? Do you not feel it with him? Falconcry, as your half-sister, I tell you that you must go comfort your friend."

"No." A gray-white tabby she-cat narrowed her eyes at Darkwhisker with defiance. "He brought it onto himself."

Darkwhisker wanted to leap at the infuriating she-cat and shake in some sense, but she suppressed herself. "He does not sleep, eat, or drink. All he does is stare at Poppyflower's grave. He will die, and you did not even lift a paw to help him live!"

Falconcry gave a sudden growl and her hackles were raised high. "Let me tell you this, Darkwhisker. Before he went off gadding with that girl, you know what he told me? He said, 'Fuck off, Falconcry. I don't need you.' That is what he said. So why is it _me_ that has to go to comfort him after his little escapade, may I ask you?"

Darkwhisker looked at her friend and kin with serious eyes. "Because that's what friends are suppose to do. Help each other, even though they piss us off." With that, Darkwhisker took a glance and Falconcry and swept out of the den.

Falconcry bristled and then yowled, "Well, fine! Some friend you are!" Falconcry then went back sulking at the corner of the den where her nest was, and gritting her teeth.

She did not want to go mourn for Poppyflower's death, even if she was the medicine cat.

She did not want to go comfort her best friend ever since they left the nursery.

She did, however, want to go out into the swamp to hunt.

Making sure nobody saw her, Falconcry crept out of the den and into the swamp. She might as well pick up a few frogleg's for Darkwhisker's kits to play with.

---

"Hey, Falconcry." Falconcry stiffened, and saw the Buzzardsight standing in front of her.

"Get the frick away from me and chew your heart out," she muttered, and retrieved her prey. "Aren't you suppose to be mourning for Poppyflower?"

Buzzardsight's face dropped. "It's just… she was so beautiful…" he whispered.

"What the frick, you loved her because she was beautiful?" Falconcry meowed. "What happened to you, Buzzardsight? When did you start hanging out with fodder like Poppyflower?"

Buzzardsight was apparently too sorrow-filled to be angry at her. "I loved her… I never wanted her to go…"

Falconcry sighed. "I guess now I'll have to let you cry on my shoulder." Falconcry touched her nose with Buzzardsight, and he brushed his cheek against hers, weeping softly. Falconcry relaxed, swaying slowly for a few heartbeats before pushing him away. "I don't forgive you," Falconcry accused.

"For what?"

"Um… all those times. Putting dung in my nest when we were apprentices, ditching the patrol to go hunting with Poppyflower, scaring off my prey, tripping me, telling me to go 'fuck off'…"

"You have an impressive memory," Buzzardsight chuckled, "I messed up pretty bad, huh?" he leaned closer to Falconcry, sighing.

Falconcry's head was whirling with thoughts. She knew that he was just paying attention to her because he wanted to be comforted. She could push away her old friend, or embrace him.

"Tell me… we all know Poppyflower chose to be a medicine cat because she was too cowardly to do anything else--- don't give me that look Buzzardsight, you know it is true. She was always flirting with toms. What do you she in her?"

Buzzardsight looked at her. "I knows me." They looked out at the distance, where the sun was setting. The crickets and bullfrogs were beginning to sing.

Falconcry remembered all those times when he was there for her, when he was her friend.

"Don't give up on me," he breathed.

"I won't, my frined," she whispered back, and they watched the sunset together.

Darkwhisker watched in the back, smiling at the cats. "Perfect." This was what the fighting friends needed: a sunset, some talk, and a good friend to help them both.


	6. Chapter 6

**Reviews are love. This one is really short, please don't kill me. ~Blanc**

**Ch 6: Don't Give Up**

"Fuck you, Badgerfang, she is dead!" Yellowfur yowled, her eyes narrowed with fury. "Can you not see? She is gone."

"I will never leave her," Badgerfang said mournfully in a small voice, "She was my life." He was lying with the dead body of his mate, Lillypetal in her grave. The other cats were waiting expectantly for him to crawl out so they can bury the she-cat, but he refused.

"Damn it," Yellowfur hissed, and grabbed him by the scruff, and dragging him out. Once he was upright, she cuffed him around the head. He staggered, and she hit him again forcefully. "You have to live," she roared, eyes bulging, "When everything is crashing down," she panted, and stop hitting him, "You must stand up. Do not back down. Do you hear me?"

Badgerfang spat out dirt and leaped at Yellowfur, which she easily sidestepped. "You don't know anything about pain. You never loved, never felt, never dreamed! You never took a mate, and your family is still alive! My parents are dead, everyone I loved left me here in this stupid world! All I had was her."

Yellowfur's eyes burned with new anger, and the she-cat growled, "How do you know? When my comrades fall in battle, when I see a kit mewling in hunger, when I see blood unjustly shed, do you think I do not feel pain for them? I know pain, I know more pain then you know, bastard. Do you think you really know me?"

Badgerfang narrowed his eyes. "I hate you."

Yellowfur rolled her own eyes at her former best friend. "Good. At least I am giving you a lesson. You do not give up. You hear me? Life must go on. If you stop, keep going. Do not rest. Lillypetal died for a reason. The cats in this battle died for a reason. If you decide to throw your life away to be buried alive in dirt, then feel ashamed. We are ashamed of you." Badgerfang's eyes filled with tears as his mentor stalked away.

"I will live… for her," he meowed, and a tear trickled down his cheek as his Clan buried his beloved, his only one. And a part of him went with it too.


	7. Chapter 7

**Let's say my computer crashed down, okay? **

Ch 7- Peace

Frostfur's stomach growls in hunger as she woke up from her dream. She was chasing a mouse, but no matter how close she got, the rodent always slipped away. Frostfur passed her tongue over her teeth, spitting out a rotting one. She rose shakily with weak legs out of the pile of leaves. It did not help that she was growing old.

"Frostfur?" Speckletail rasped quietly, blinking sleep out of her eyes. "What are you doing so early?" The tabby she-cat cocked her head to the side.

"Hunting," Frostfur joked, but their half-hearted chuckling was interrupted by an unusually large cry from Loudbelly's stomach.

"Obviously you are well named," Shadepelt commented dryly. This caused much hilarity among the elders beside Loudbelly.

"Why are we still here?" Loudbelly complained, ignoring the chuckles. "My stomach hurts. It is eating my insides."

"The Clans could do much better without us," Shadepelt replied automatically, "we would only slow them down." But she too sounded uncertain. Their hunger was too close for comfort, and it seemed like she was reassuring herself more than Loudbelly.

For nearly a moon, the four elders survived on their wits, avoiding traps and Twolegs. Prey was getting scarce, and all they could do was lie on their creaky bones.

"I'm just so tired," Frostfur murmured. "I wish StarClan could take me now, so this suffering could pass." Silence met her statement before Speckletail broke it.

"Nonsense," she said briskly, "you haven't gained much wisdom since you were a kit. We keep going until we die like warriors."

"What I could really have right now," Loudbelly said suddenly, "is a fat, tender fish."

"Fish are disgusting," Frostfur scoffed, "a few mice from Greenleaf should do the trick."

"Oh, shut up, you're making me drool," Shadepelt groaned. "Can we please do something else?"

"All right," Speckletail agreed, "what do you think the Clans are doing now?"

Frostfur began to worry for her kin. "Whitepaw's inherited her aunt's clumsiness. I do hope she doesn't fall off a cliff or anything…"

"Stop being such a worry-wart," Speckletail chided, "how do you know if there are cliffs? If someone does fall off a cliff, it would be Smokepaw."

"Who is Smokepaw?" Shadepelt asked.

"He's from ShadowClan," Loudbelly explained.

"I hear he has two left paws," Frostfur purred, "but I do hope none of them gets hurt."

The elders forced themselves to talk about kits, scandals, old gossip, anything but their hunger. However, it grew so much that soon they stopped talking all together, their stomachs paining them greatly.

"I'm so hungry," Loudbelly moaned.

Frostfur twitched her ears irritably, and tried to fall back to sleep. Sleep was her only comfort, even if mice were being annoying. She shifted on her side, closing her eyes. Speckletail was strangely quiet, her eyes closed in a deep slumber. Frostfur vaguely thought through her fevered mind that it was strange.

--

It seemed only like a heartbeat when she woke up again. She did not open her eyes immediately, lingering in her nest for a few more seconds.

"No," Frostfur murmured, remembering her starvation. "Why now?" With a jolt, she realized that her stomach did not growl with hunger. She stood up, energy coursing through her veins. She felt young again.

Frostfur began to get up, surprised by the sudden power in her old veins. Actually, she did not feel old at all. Her dizzy head was becoming clearer, and she ran. The details of the dark forest were all a blur now as she gained more speed.

She didn't know how long she ran; the sheer bliss of feeling youthful and fed again was clouding her thoughts. But she did finally stop, not feeling tired at all. She looked around the beautiful clearing. Where was she? Majestic trees loomed over her, and the melody of birdsong was in the midnight air. This was not the forest, or rather, what was left of the forest. And where were her friends? Frostfur began feeling panicky, and she trembled all over. She looked up, her nose sniffing for any familiar scents. Squinting, she suddenly realized that the stars were moving!

One by one, they came down next to her. To her surprise, the stars were cats.

"Mother?" Frostfur whispered, recognizing a small brown she-cat. Robinwing glanced fondly at her, but she did not speak. The cats slowly turned towards her, their pelts sparkling with stars.

Then it hit her.

"Oh Great StarClan! Foxdung, I'm dead!" Frostfur exclaimed, and a sparkling kittens snickered at her.

"Mosskit, shush," Bluestar commanded her kit. Mosskit fell silent. Bluestar turned to Frostfur, smiling. "Welcome to StarClan, my old friend."

"Bluestar…" Frostfur bowed her head, feeling as inadequate as an apprentice around this powerful she-cat. "I am honored in StarClan's presence. But what about Loudbelly… and Speckletail…"

"Fool, are you blinded?" a familiar voice hissed. Frostfur looked up, and to her joy and sorrow, Speckletail was sitting next to a magnificent golden tabby and a small white kit. "Your brains are as addled as ever." Frostfur was too stunned to retort.

"Frostfur," Bluestar began again, "it is time for you to join StarClan. Follow us to our hunting grounds."

"But what about Loudbelly and Shadepelt?"

"They will come and join us when it is time. You shall meet them soon."

Without another word, Frostfur took her first step towards StarClan, feeling peace at last.

**There are not a lot of fanfics about Frostfur, unfortunately. Therefore, I decided to write this one about what happened to the elders who decided to stay behind. According to Warriors Wiki, they died of starvation. I also decided to show StarClan as what they are usually shown as, instead of my twisted version with Ivyheart in it.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Ch 8: Mother's Love**

"… _Firestar came face to face with a skinny gray she-cat. Her green eyes glinted with hatred as she launched herself at him, her teeth hand claws digging deep into his shoulder. Firestar felt her tooth-studded collar crushing his face as she bit down. He twisted, tearing his neck fur free of the BloodClan warrior's teeth and launching himself at her unprotected belly, to score his claws down it. The she-cat sprang back and fled into the bushes." From _The Darkest Hour_ by Erin Hunter, page 293_

_--_

"BloodClan, gather around!" Scourge yowled, his voice higher than usual with excitement. His blue eyes glared at his cats, who looked up eagerly to hear what he had to say.

"Tonight, the forest shall be ours! No more escaping from Twolegs and fighting dogs, or be crushed by their disgusting creations. We shall take over the forest, and I, as your leader! We shall drive out the weak forest cats, and conquer what is rightfully ours!" The roar of approval from the BloodClan cats was defending, but Scourge silenced all of them with a lazy flick of his tail. "The forest cats are weak, but we are strong. However, they had proven that they are cowards by killing three of or kits!" Many cats muttered among themselves, hissing threats at the forest cats. The loss of newborn kits was a loss of potential assassins to serve BloodClan.

Fluta bowed her head as her mate mentioned her dead kits, Scavenger, Delta, and Felicity, but her green eyes were burning with hatred and the lust for revenge. The poor scraps were found at the edge of their territory, brutally slashed at the throat, face, and belly. Scavenger's blue eyes were gouged out, and Delta's paws were cut off, with his guts spilling on the ground. Signs showed that Felicity forced into mating with the killer, and was later suffocated to death. Fluta snarled as she imagined finding the killer and ripping his limbs off, one by one. Looking up to face her mate, she looked at Scourge fondly, loving every fiber of his black soul. _He will lead us to victory, and guide my revenge_, Fluta thought. Although the killer was never found, conquering the forest cats would make up for the loss.

"… You are dismissed!" The cats began to separate, whispering in thrill and malice, discussing ways to kills the forest cats. Fluta's mind was reeling with such thoughts, until a certain voice broke into them.

"Fluta, come," Scourge meowed shrilling. Fluta smiled seductively at Scourge, and she saw his blue eyes sparkle with interest. Without another word, she followed him into his den. Once they were inside, she immediately sidled up to him, dragging her tongue over his neck. He moaned, but pushed Fluta away.

"Not now, Fluta." Fluta glowered at him, and he chuckled lowly. "Fluta… I don't know how to say this. I'm not very romantic, and …"

"You're romantic enough for me," Fluta whispered, twining her tail around Scourge's leg.

"Fluta, not now. Soon, I promise. How to say this? Well…"

"Enough talk," Fluta gasped, her eyes narrowing, "you can tell me later." With that, she pinned Scourge down, and he embraced her in turn. Whatever Scourge had to tell her, it was soon forgotten

* * *

Never had she felt such exhilaration. Not even when she was alone with Scourge, him whispering sweet nothings in her ear when they were in his den.

The feeling of ripping flesh, the desperate cry of dying cats, the terror on their faces… Fluta drank it all as she fought for her kits, her mate, her revenge. Each throat she sliced would be tribute to her dead kits. _This is for you, my darlings_, she thought with satisfaction as a tortoiseshell fell down at her paws, amber eyes wide in death. Suddenly, she felt an immense weight fall on top of her and sharp teeth biting her neck fur. Yowling in pain, she twisted around to throw her attacker off. His hold of her lessened slightly, but that was all she needed. She threw him off with a grunt, and whirled around to defend herself. But the ginger tom had already fled to help another forest cat battle Bone. Shaking her gray blood-soaked pelt, Fluta eyed her former opponent. As much as she hated them, Fluta grudgingly admired the forest cats for their sheer bravery and loyalty.

_Now, where is Scourge? _She paused, eyes darting around for the sly black tom, but instead, found the hated ginger one, Firestar. _He is responsible for the death of my kits!_ Without a second thought, she launched herself at him, yowling her kit's names. She relished the surprised looked on Firestar's face as her teeth sank into his shoulder. Her vision went red with bloodlust, and she spat out mouthfuls of ginger fur. "Killer of kits!" she hissed through fur. To her delight, Firestar was yowling in pain as her claws sliced into his pelt. Suddenly, the ginger tom twisted, throwing her off. As she shook her head to clear her mind, Fluta looked up.

She saw compassion, pride, love, and fierce loyalty burning in his eyes. And for a heartbeat, Fluta's chest burned with a longing to feel these emotions. All too soon, the longing was consumed by flames of hate, even before she felt claws scoring her belly. _I will die willingly_, Fluta thought, as the flames in her heart died down a bit, _if only to feel that sort of love myself… _

"Fluta!" She heard Scourge's high-pitched yowl, which was soft enough for only her to hear. "Fluta, come!" Springing back up, she raked her claws over Firestar's cheek for a good measure before dashing into the bushes.

"My love," she breathed after they plastered each other with licks. She leaned against him, rubbing her muzzle against his chin.

"Fluta, stop fighting." She froze, blinking at Scourge.

"Stop… fighting?"

"Fluta, you and Slit are the only ones I have left," Scourge whispered, "and if you die, what would our last son do?"

"I have to keep on fighting! It is for our kits. These kit-murderingmousedung do not deserve to take another breath. Each cat is tribute to Scavenger, Delta, and Felicity!" Fluta drew back from Scourge, her ears flattened to her skull, suddenly aware of Scourge's calm blue eyes. "They are your kits, too."

Scourge's ice blue eyes hardened. "I killed them, Fluta."

The world was spinning, and Fluta stumbled in shock. "W-what?"

"You heard me. I killed them. It was the only way to persuade our most reluctant cats to fight, and we needed all of them if we are to win."

Fluta stiffened, then launched herself at Scourge, her vision blinded by rage. "Murderer! You dare to call yourself a father?" Scourge easily sidestepped her wild attempt, and tripped Fluta with a flick of his black tail. _He's cold,_ Fluta thought dimly, _he is as black as his pelt, as cold as his eyes._ The energy went out of her body, along with the rage. Falling, she laid down at the ground in defeat. "You… you… did that to your own kits?"

Scourge regarded her coldly, then bared back his teeth in relish at the memory. "That was the first time I gouged out a cat's eyes. I have done that to dogs and some rodents, but the effect is so much different with cats. All that blood… Felicity was screaming the whole time, but our dear ginger Delta ran off, screaming for help. So, I cut off his paws for trying to escape. Naughty boy…" Fluta was still in shock as Scourge taunted her by describing how he killed their — no, her kits.

"… oh, and Felicity, she was fun. Such small, delicate legs, like yours!" Scourge smiled as if Fluta should treat it like a compliment.

But something broke inside of Fluta as Scourge mentioned Felicity. The roaring rage boiled inside of her, filling her veins with energy. She was trembling, and her vision was scarlet. This was unlike her bloodlust in battle. She knew the killer, and she was too outraged to do anything else but fix all her energy on her target.

Scourge cocked his head to the right. "Shame… you were the best in my den," Scourge meowed casually. "Kill her, Bone. I have no use for her anymore."

"Bone?" Fluta chocked. Before she could react, Bone was on top of her.

"This is what you get, Fl_uuuu_ta," Bone hissed, and raised his paw to give the killing blow.

She felt claws tearing at her flesh, and a sharp pain cutting through her like fire.

_Mommy is so sorry, Felicity, Scavenger, and Delta. Mommy tried, I did try so hard._

_It's all right,_ Fluta heard a small female voice whisper back in her mind.

Another voice joined the first_. Daddy was bad, but now we'll be together._

_We forgive you, Mama._ The third voice was also male, soft and comforting. Fluta felt three small bodies snuggling up to her. They're innocence and warmth washed away all hate, and the sins she had done in her life.

She did not know if she was hallucinating or not, but she felt at peace at last. Her vision slowly faded into nothing.

"Goodbye, Fluta," Scourge crooned. "Maybe we'll see each other in another lifetime." He watched without expression as Fluta's pale green eyes glazed over in death, and Bone dropped the body, licking his lips.

"Tsk tsk," Scourge tutted, "Bone, I shall need a new mate by next sunrise."

"As you wish, Scourge," Bone muttered, and went back into the battle. Scourge stared down at the skinny gray body. He couldn't help but notice a small smile of content curving Fluta's mouth.

**Muhahahaha! I updated! I might make another chapter on either Scavenger, Felicity, or Delta's point of view when Scourge killed them in cold-blood. **

**It's begining to look a lot like Christmas...**


	9. Chapter 9

**Ch 9: Father's Love**

**This is a sort-of sequel to Mother's Love.. It's mentioned in the last chapter.**

**WARNING:If you are squeamish about rape and murder (it not very detailed, but still), then skip.**

Delta yowled, "I am the evil Firestar! Raawr!"

"Eek!" Felicity squealed, and ran behind Fluta's legs. A small black tom groaned next to her, looking up heavenward for patience with his brilliant green eyes.

"Fe_li_cit_yyy_," he groaned, emphasizing on certain syllables, "it's just a game!" Scavenger's green eyes flashed with annoyance at his sister.

"B-but, Firestar is so scary!" Felicity whispered, her whole body quivering with fright.

"Yeah, he's scary, evil, senile, crazy, stupid, and will eat you in your sleep!" Scavenger taunted, "and if you don't be good, he'll get yoooou..."

"Don't worry," Delta mewed, feeling sorry for his sister, "Firestar won't come here. Daddy's the bestest leader ever."

"Stop that, Scavenger! You're scaring your sister," Fluta scolded, and Scavenger stopped. Their mother licked Felicity's gray head comfortingly. "Now, Firestar won't come. No cat is stupid enough to attack the kits of the great Scourge." Delta nodded his own ginger head, his ice-blue eyes - that were so much like his father's- thoughtful. Everyone knew Firestar was evil for defying Scourge's order. Scourge's word was law, and anyone who argued against it was enemy. Or dead after a heartbeat.

Delta sighed and sat down to groom his dirty ginger pelt. Now that Felicity was scared, they couldn't continue their game. Fluta was protective over their sister. Delta thought it was probably because Felicity was a girl. She-cats were precious to the Clan. He caught Slit, his older brother, looking hungrily at Felicity before, but Fluta had driven him out before Slit could even take another breath. Delta didn't know why. In his opinion, girls were gross. That was probably the only thing he and Scavenger agreed on.

"Fluta, when can we become BloodClan warriors?" Scavenger asked.

"Not until you are eight moons old. Then you will have to preform a rite of passage," Fluta replied.

"Ooh, what happens?"

"Well, it's different for each cat," Fluta began, "but I can't tell you." The kits' -well, at least the toms- ears drooped in disappointment.

"Maybe it's catching the biggest rat from the sewers," Delta wondered out loud, "those are scary."

"Or maybe cross a street with monsters everywhere!" Scavenger cheered, delighted at every face of danger. The two looked at Felicity for her opinion.

"Um... who can hide the bestest?" Felicity squeaked. Delta sighed; girls were so wimpy. Well, maybe not all of them, but Felicity was even afraid of her own shadow.

Suddenly, Fluta got up, gently shaking Felicity from her leg. Felicity squeaked, but fell onto the ground with a thump. Curious, Delta followed Fluta, flicking his tail for Scavenger. After a moment of hesitation, Felicity also got up and followed her brothers, her green eyes wide with terror.

"What is it, Slit?" Fluta asked sharply. Slit bowed his head to his stepmother. Delta remembered that Slit was not their actual older brother; Slit's mother was a slender snow-white kittypet who moved away moons ago with her Twolegs. But they shared the same blood of Scourge, and that made them kin. However, the same did not go to Fluta.

"Scourge wants to see his new kits, Roamer, Beta, and Flicka," Slit said in his oily voice.

"Scavenger, Delta, and Felicity," Fluta corrected him coldly. "Very well. Where is he?"

"At the edge of the forest. He says only they three are allowed to come." Delta smelled his mother's fear and suspicion, but Fluta nodded tersely.

"You can come out now, little ones," she meowed without taking her eyes off of Slit. Sheepishly, the kits crawled out of the den.

"It was Delta's idea," Felicity mewed immediately. Slit chuckled lowly, his blood-red eyes staring at Felicity with something Delta did not understand.

"Pert, isn't she? Now, if I was leader, I would change the rite of passage into--"

"She is your half-sister, Slit. Remember your place," Fluta snarled. The three kits were confused, staring at the two older cats. Slit licked his lips nervously before nodded at Fluta.

In a softer voice, Fluta meowed, "Children, you heard Slit. Your father is waiting."

"Yes, Mama!" Delta pipped.

"We'll be back before you know it!"

Felicity didn't say anything, but ran after her brothers.

"I wonder what Scourge wants," she remarked. They had slowed down their pace to a brisk trot. All of them were eager to meet their great father. "What does he look like?"

"Maybe we gotta show him our battle skills!" Scavenger meowed happily, "or maybe it's our rite of passage!"

"But we're not eight moons old yet," Delta pointed out, his mind a whirlwind of anticipation and worry. What if Scourge didn't like him? What if Scourge liked Scavenger, or even wimpy Felicity better?

"I'll show our father that I'm the greatest fighter ever!" Scavenger crowed, "and he'll have to appoint me!"

"Oh yeah?" Delta shot back, getting irritated by his brother's constant boasting, "you can't even beat me."

"We'll see about that," Scavenger snarled playfully, and launched himself at Delta. With a chocked yowl of surprised, Delta quickly dropped down to the ground and rolled out of the way until he felt something furry and warm. "Oops," Delta gasped and got up, shaking his fur. "Sorry, sorry..." his apology trailed off as he looked up to see blue eyes that were like his.

"Ooh, you crashed into Scourge!" Felicity breathed. She blushed when Scourge turned his black head towards her. He bared his teeth into a smile, scanned his children with calculating eyes.

"You must be Scavenger, Delta, and Felicity," Scourge mewed softly._ He knows our names_! Delta thought dizzily.

"Yep," Scavenger squeaked like Felicity.

Scourge studied them for a moment longer before speaking again. "Kits, do want to serve BloodClan with all your hearts and minds?"

"Yes!" The kits said in unison.

"Do you think BloodClan deserves your loyalty, efforts, and bloodshed? Do you want BloodClan to honor you for what you sacrificed for your Clan to help it rise into glory?"

"YES!"

"Then... are you willing to help me?" Scourge ended quietly. The kits nodded, their tails waving. "If we are to destroy those forest cats, your help will be greatly appreciated."

Delta finally found his voice. "We'll do anything for you and BloodClan, Father."

Scourge turned his icy eyes to Delta. He found himself hypnotised by the eyes that were so much like his. Delta swallowed nervously. "Anything, dear Delta?" Delta shrugged.

"Thank you, Delta, for your permission. Your tribute will be greatly honored." The Delta saw reinforced claws strike out at him. He barely had time to shriek before the claws found his face.

"It's dark," Delta whimpered as excruciating pain exploded like fire from his face. "I can't see... Mama, help!"

"Sweet dreams, Delta," he heard Scourge's voice whisper in his ear, "thank you. This is all for helping BloodClan, remember?"

The darkness swarmed his vision, and Delta felt himself giving in to it. The pain was fading...

* * *

It may seem stupid, that I just stood there when my father murdered my brother in front of me.

I could not move. It was like ice, the ice from Delta's frozen eyes had crept to my veins and stopped them. My ears roared with blood and I stared at Delta's wide eyes in horror. _He's dead, my right eye, he's dead_, I thought. _Scourge killed him._

And Scourge stood there too, cleaning his bloodied paw. To my horror, Delta's_ eye_ was lying on the ground, spinning lazily in a pool of blood.

I finally found my voice. "You can't get away with this," I croaked, "this has your scent all over it."

Scourge looked up, amused. "My dear kit, Scourge's word is law. If I say the forest cats killed him, nobody dares to say anything, even if they found out."

He was right.

"Delta..." Felicity whispered, her eyes brimming with tears.

Those tears triggered me. The ice broke, and I ran as fast as I can to find my mother. If I had known what was going to happen, I would have stayed.

But I woud have died either way.

* * *

Felicity trembled, watching Scourge with wide green eyes. Scourge smiled dangerously, winking at Felicity. For a split second, she almost believed that Scourge was going to let Scavenger run away. But she was wrong.

"Perfect," Scourge hissed, and ran after Scavenger. His longer legs reached Scavenger in a few heartbeats. Using the same paw he carved Delta's eye out with, Scourge flipped Scavenger onto his back.

"Let go of me, mmmf!" Scourge stuffed his mouth with dirt. "A runner, I see," Scourge meowed casually. "Better do something about you, huh? Your name should have been Swifty... but you won't be running for long." Scavenger was stiff with horror, not daring to move. As fast a lightning, Scourge lunged forward, his jaws parted. There was a sickening crunch, and Scavenger yowled in agony. His small paws were dangling awkwardly, dripping with blood. Scourge yowled in victory before plunging his jaws back again, this time sinking his teeth into Scavenger's throat.

Felicity gasped, and Scavenger turned painfully to meet her eye.

"Felicity... don't..." Scavenger gurgled, blood spewing out of his mouth and punctured throat with the effort. His head rolled back, and Scavenger looked up at the sky, motionless in death.

Scourge turned to Felicity. "You can run, but you will end up like him. Are you going to run?"

Felicity slowly shook her head.

"Good. We understand each other now." Scourge smiled almost fondly at Felicity. "You have inherited your mother's beauty, but not her sharp temper, I see. Docile as a baby mouse."

Felicity opened her mouth, but closed it, not knowing what to say.

"Don't worry, I like quiet she-cats. They are easy to order and do everything you say. So, now I want you to lie down. Just relax."

Obediently, Felicity did what she was told.

"Excellent!" Scourged praised. Not looking up, she felt teeth snag her tender neck skin. Was Scourge going to bite her?

"Just relax, Felicity," Scourge murmmured, and mounted himself onto her.

Then she felt something hot brush against the sensitive spot between her legs... and it pushed in. She yowled as it pumped harder into her. Scourge grunted above her in pleasure, clearly delighted. Felicity screamed again as Scourge ripped her up even more, vaguely aware of his claws ripping into her pelt. She scorched the ground desperately, trying to get away. But Scourge's hold of her was firm. It grew harder and faster, until Felicity thought she was going to explode.

After a few heartbeats, Scourge got off of her, panting. Felicity sat there, sobbing harder than ever. Their pelts were slick with sweat.

"That was wonderful, darling. It's a pity I have to kill you," Scourge remarked. Felicity responded by bawling, her cries unheard by the world.

She did not care as Scourge took her head and pressed it against the earth. She welcomed the feeling as darkness swooped over her, erasing her mind with wonderful blankness.

**I tried to keep it as censored as possible. I got bored half-way... Flames are welcomed.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Nothing much. Here is chapter 10.**

**Ch 10: Change **

"Stormfur is back! He's back!" Splashpaw yowled, bursting through the nursery. The calico tom screeched to a halt, causing moss and bedding to fly in every direction.

I stood up, ignoring the frantic mews from her kits. "He's back?" I gasp, twitiching my tail in excitement.

"Are you deaf or something? I was on a patrol and I saw him! I saw him! Swallowtail told me to go back and tell everyone." With that, Splashpaw hurried out again, yowling the good news.

I sank to my paws again, sighing with relief. Finally, my childhood friends were home, safe and sound. I turned to Mosspelt, who was rising up to greet the cats who she pratically raised from kithood. "Do you think it would be all right if I left them here?" I asked the old tortoiseshell queen.

Her blue eyes gazed at me with thoughtfulness before replying, "go, Dawnflower. I'll meet Stormfur and Feathertail later. Your kits will be safe here." Nodding my thanks to her, I raced outside, only to find RiverClan bowing their heads in grief. I spotted my old mentor, Heavystep, and raced towards him.

"Heavystep," I gasped, "why is everyone..." I caught the look in his eye and shutted up.

"Feathertail is dead," the tabby rasped.

It h me like a rock, pelting right into my heart. I widened my eyes in horror, my mouth forming into a perfect O, and remembered with horror that Splashpaw had only said Stormfur. I had assumed Feathertail was with cats around me looked at me with pity, and brushed my shoulder with their tail. "Where is she?" I croaked, breathing heavily to calm my bruised heart.

"Her body is not here." His words triggered something in me, and I let out all the pain from my chest in a single yowl. I did not care if nearly the whole Clan was around me. The aungish poured out of my throat in a single note of sorrow.

Because after all these moons I never apologized to my best friend, and that can never happen now.

* * *

Our quarrel began moons ago, back when we were apprentices. I envied her slender body and gentle manner, she covetted my flawless pale fur and graceful movements. In a way, our friendship was built under the rocks of our jealousy, but the same stones also contained loyalty, kindness, and love.

I remember Feathertail dabbing the water with her silver paw, watching in amusement as the fish swam away with each ripple. She was only a foolish apprentice back then.

"You're scaring away good prey," I mewed sharply. She looked up guiltily, bowing her head in respect, since I was her elder by a few moons.

"I'm s-sorry," she stammered, flicking her wet paw. "I wasn't thinking."

I tried looking superior and stern, but that didn't work. I was always too soft. "Oh, never mind. I was kind of funny how the fish swam away."

She giggled, her soft blue eyes twinkling. "Really?"

I stared at her, mustering all the seriousness left in my body. "Really." Then we started laughing, the sound of it erupting from our mouths like rain from the clouds. Featherpaw had a nice gurgling laugh that was geniune and contagious.

When we finally managed to get our breaths back, I gasped, "my name is Dawnpaw."

"I know."

I blushed at her frankness and honesty; RiverClan wasn't very large, and every member's name was known by everyone. Feeling like a fool, I stared at my paws for a few heartbeats before speaking again. "So... Crookedstar says we have to go on the moonhigh patrol today."

Featherpaw's replied, "Okay, thanks." And for the rest of the time, we sat there, admiring the sparkling stream and the gentle breeze ruffling our fur. The only sound was our breathing. It was so peaceful and quiet, I wished it could last for ever.

We sat there like two old friends until Heavystep barked at us for being lazy and slacking off like a pair of fat kits. That woke us up from the stupor, but we were friends ever since. That spot was our spot, the sign of our friendship.

* * *

"Listen to me, Dawnflower! Cats are getting hurt because of your choices; don't make things even worse!"

"You don't _understand_."

"Oh great StarClan, I hope I'll never understand," Featherpaw meowed, rolling her eyes.

I stood up, my eyes flashing. "I mean, you'll never understand what it is like to love! You'll always be the cranky elder that nobody cares about! You have the looks, Featherpaw. You have a great body, so why not use it?"

Featherpaw looked hurt, but she mewed softly, "I still can't believe you mated with your own mentor, then flirted with my brother and countless other toms who already have _mates_. You were my friend, Dawnflower."

"I am, Featherpaw," I assured calmly, "I never told anyone about your little secret."

Her blue eyes widened, and I tossed my head scornfully. "Don't give me that innocent face. I know you were looking at that new WindClan apprentice like he was something good too eat yesterday at the Gathering."

Her eyes flashed, and I saw coldness replace the sweet blue eyes "I am not a traitor," she hissed, her claws digging into the ground.

Not taking the hint that she was deeply vexed by my suggestion, I prattled onidiotically. "Oh really? You know Featherpaw, that sort of impudence must come from your ThunderClan blood." I meant it as a playful teasing, but it came out harsher than I intended.

Featherpaw trembled in anger, and a moment too late, I noticed that I had literally pushed her off a cliff. "Do not. Insult. My father's Clan," she growled through gritted teeth. Her anger fustrated me.

"I can insult all I want, half-breed."

"I am a half-breed, and I am proud of it! It's better than being some foxdung... _whore_!" she yowled, and raced back to camp without looking back. I stood there, in shock. My best friend had just called me a whore.

Ever since that incident, we never shared tongues again. The Clan noticed, but nobody except my mother tried to talk to us. If we were put in the same patrol, our interaction was curt and polite. When Featherpaw recieved her warrior name Feathertail, I cheered along with the rest of the Clan with a heavy heart. I had broken our friendship by treading into dangerous waters, poking fun at her heritage. I should have known that she was still sensitive about it... And everything she said about me was true.

When I had my first litter, the whole Clan congratulated me by visiting the nursery to exclaim over them. I was a proud mother, but nobody knew who fathered my kits. Even I didn't know. It could be Heavystep, Stonefur, Blackclaw... maybe even Crookedstar's. Looking back, I had wasted the prime of my life.

Finally, Feathertail came in. She frozed when she saw me tickling the chin of Loudbelly with my tail. Instead of turning back, she walked on steadily towards me. I smiled at Loudbelly and licked his cheek before turning towards her.

"See you later, Dawnflower," Loudbelly grunted, and walked out.

Feathertail stared at me, then mewed softly, "You have beautiful kits there."

"Hmm? Oh yes, thank you very much." We sat there in silence, the tension of the air building up by each heartbeat. I couldn't help but remember how we used to sit side by side, enjoying the river in comfortable silence.

"Who is their father?"

I wanted to lie that I knew who the father was, but didn't want to tell, but the way Feathertail looked at me loosened my tongue. "I honestly have no idea."

She studied my face, her blue eyes wide with sadness and pity. "You haven't changed one bit," she said, and turned to pad out of the nursery.

That was moons ago. My first litter was an adventerous bunch, had drowned in the river one day. Now I sit here, watching my new litter play in the nursery.

_Oh, Feathertail, I did change. I'm more responsible, I'm smarter, and oh yeah, I'm not a whore anymore._ I chuckled mentally at the last reason darkly.

_I wish you are here... here to forgive me so I can forgive myself. I'm sorry I called you a half-breed, and hurted all those she-cats...but you're gone now._

"Mommy?" I look down to see Tumblekit at my paws. She was always the sweetest and most caring... like Feathertail. "Mommy, are you all right?"

I smiled painfully. "I'm all right, Tumblekit. Go back playing. Mommy just needs to rest now." She nodded and rubbed her cheek on my leg before pouncing on her sister, Minnowkit.

I curled up in my best, my eyes drooping. Before I could fall into the blissful darkness, I heard a voice whisper in my ear.

_I forgive you. You have change._

**Please Read and Review... Flamers are welcomed. This was kind of rushed, done between breaks from my school project and other things.**


	11. Chapter 11

**This was done in a rush. I felt guilty for not updating LOF for so long, even with writer's block. **

**I do not own Warriors. Erin Hunter does, most unfortunately.**

They remember the heroes, the ones who died valiantly for their Clan in battle.

Everyone tears up when they recall their fallen loved ones, roaring their battle cries in their last days alive, solemnly bowing down there head.

We talk about them with respect and sorrow. Kits grow on the stories of brave warriors in the nursery, with their eyes growing with each passing second.

Yes, the heroes are remembered.

But what about the cowards?

Or as I prefer to call it, _the ones who got away_?

They have a few heartbeats of attention. The Clan welcomes them back with grateful licks and excitement and relief.

But it ends the next day.

Foxdung, only your _mother_ would be always grateful.

The doting lasts for a few heartbeats. But then it stops. Quickly.

**A FEW INTERESTING FACTS TO BEHOLD:**

**The first time, I got away.**

**The first time, my brother didn't**.

**There was no second time.**

**For both of us.**

I now rest at StarClan, watching over not only heroes, but the invisible ones. The cowards. Like me.

Yes, I am a coward.

And I am grateful.

Life is too short to throw away so quickly.

---

**THE FIRST TIME, I GOT AWAY**

**There was blood strewn everywhere**

**Like scattered moss**

**Cats were falling **

**Like leaves**

**Except me.**

**I was standing.**

---

I wasn't always a coward.

I was a warrior, someone who was willing to sacrifice for his Clan and die gladly with a smile on his face.

It was hard.

It wasn't easy, you know.

---

I used to be so strong with my pride soaring high in the sky. I should have been checked as a youngling, or have lines drawn in front of me. But I didn't have any guiding paw to lead me. You would think I was always the serious, careful cat I am now.

But things change.

They always do.

---

I detest battles.

They sicken me, with all that blood strewn everywhere, flowing from limp bodies. Those claws always find you, those fangs always pierce your neck.

**Evidently, I also hate talking about them. So to sum it up:**

**I was fighting with my brother**

**Smothered by the death and sounds of war**

**When he fell**

**Into my paws**

**Red stark against his white fur**

**Flowing, flowing, flowing**

**His eyes wide in death**

**Glazed forevermore.**

**I howled.**

I had no one left.

---

Taste it.

It's

Have you ever felt the wind coarse through your fur?

Tasted fresh, clear water on a beautiful day in newleaf?

Believe that you could fly with your dreams?

Or smelled the wildflowers in the meadow?

Hear the words whispered into your ear by singing larks?

Well, have you?

This is why life is precious.

But…

Sometimes the days are cold and the wind chills you to your core.

Everything slows down, and you can't breathe, no matter how much you try.

The wonderful taste in your mouth turns foul, and the world is red like deathberries.

The larks morph into vultures before a battle, waiting hungrily.

And there is pain.

Pain. It blinds you, it wraps you under binds so thick that you cannot escape.

These are the elements that make a coward… but there are wonders that shape the coward too.

Oh, how you can taste it, feel it, and dream it. You cannot fathom how much we cherish the delights the world gives us!

---

So these are the reasons for the true coward. To be a coward, to live as a coward.

We must hide from the darkness in order to live for beauty.

Whether it is from loss or we are born with it, the cowards are never remembered.

We are truly the forgotten ones.

**You can tell I got lazy in the end… there was suppose to be a battle scene and stuff… but yeah. It's just a series of rambles, nothing special.**

**Hmm... I think the next one is going to be about StormXSquirrel... kill me if you want, but it was quite cute, though I understand why it would have never worked out.**


	12. Chapter 12

**So… long time no see, eh? ^^**

**Slight fluffy moment for two of my characters in Raised from Ashes when they were younger. If you follow RfA, you'll see how much Dappleleaf and Lionclaw's relationship changed. I know it's very short, but please don't kill me.**

**I don't own Warriors.**

Dapplepaw watched silently as Silverpaw chattered nonstop to Bramblepaw. Or, rather, she was talking to Bramblepaw and Bramblepaw was staring at her long, slender legs. Dapplepaw sighed inwardly, trying to suppress the envy piling up inside of her.

"Like, great StarClan, did you just hear about Silverpaw and Badgerpaw?" Pigeonpaw mewed, her eyes wide. "They like, had a spat yesterday and now Silverpaw won't even look at him!" Sure enough, the black and white apprentice was looking rather sulky. Dapplepaw gave a small nod.

"Yeah, I heard," she said stiffly. "She moves on from tom to tom quickly." Pigeonpaw gave Dapplepaw a strange look, then brightened up.

"Whatever. Like, what do you see in Snowpaw?"

Dapplepaw took a small moment to consider. "Nice." Privately, she thought the older apprentice was a little boring, but she knew Pigeonpaw was padding after him.

"Nice? He's like, the best tom around! I better go say hi to him. Like, later, Dapplepaw!" Pigeonpaw skipped to Snowpaw, who grinned back when he saw Pigeonpaw.

Dapplepaw scowled despite of herself. Everyone seemed to pairing up, then falling apart like dead flies. Butterflypaw and Quailpaw were giving shy looks to each other, and Mapleleaf, who was only out of the apprentices' den one moon ago, was trying to grab Salmoneyes's attention, even though the tom was always out hunting. Dapplepaw tried to ignore her growing jealousy, and concentrate on her training, but she could help but have a nagging feeling that she was left alone. Sure enough, Silverpaw padded over her (but not before giving Bramblepaw a teasing flick of her tail) a few moments later.

"Having fun, Dapplepaw?" Silverpaw purred in her honeyed tone.

"You can't have much fun by just standing," Dapplepaw pointed out frankly. Silverpaw's liquid blue eyes froze for a second like ice, but then the silver tabby laughed, throwing back her maginificent head.

"Oh, Dapplepaw, that is exactly what I meant! You see," she mewed sweetly, "I can tell you will be one of those sickly old elders that nobody really cares for. You'll only be a burden."

Dapplepaw swallowed. "No."

"Oh yes," Silverpaw meowed confidently. "Nobody would care."

Dapplepaw shook her head. "No, I'm going to be the best warrior I can. Can you do that?"

"I can," Silverpaw said softly flicking her tail, "but I don't think I need too. I am very pretty, you know." Dapplepaw blinked as Silverpaw sashayed away, smiling seductively at passing toms.

"She's right," Dapplepaw said outloud bitterly. It was sick, much too sick how the world judged she-cats by their looks. She stared at her paws, noticing the mud caked between her paws from splashing around all day. Did it matter if she was pretty or not? She sighed again.

"What's with the sighing?" A familiar voice spoke. It was Lionpaw, her long time friend. Dapplepaw looked up to find Lionpaw staring expectingly at her.

"Finally found the time to talk to your old friend instead of drooling over Silverpaw?" She meant to make her remark teasing and light-hearted, but she knew that it had dark overtones.

Lionpaw squinted his eyes. "You upset?"

Dapplepaw stared at her paws again. "Does it show?"

"Yeah," Lionpaw admitted. "Anything wrong?"

Dapplepaw was silent for a few heartbeats, then she spoke in rushed sentences. "Look at Silverpaw! She's perfect and beautiful, and absolutely gorgeous! Who wouldn't want to be her? She doesn't even have to hunt for her own prey! She has everything." Lionpaw blinked. Dapplepaw's heart sank. Great. She had just made a fool of herself to one of her dearest friends. "Forget it," she muttered. "Toadfoot complained he had ticks in his pelt." She padded away.

"I think you're wrong."

Dapplepaw whirled around. "Excuse me?"

Lionpaw's face was turning red. "I mean… you're wrong. Silverpaw isn't really beautiful." Dapplepaw's jaw dropped open. Lionpaw smirked despite himself, but went on talking in embarrassed tones. "Silverpaw doesn't have everything, because she won't know how to hunt or fight for herself… like you. And she isn't beautiful. She's pretty, I know, but true beauty comes from within." Lionpaw ended his speech with an uncomfortable silence, studying his paws. He looked up when Dapplepaw approached him hesitantly.

"Thanks," she mewed awkwardly in a soft voice, nudging him with her nose.

"No problem."

"Yeah."

"You want to go hunting?"

"Sure."

_Because true beauty… comes from within._

**Please read and review. Flames are welcomed. We ran out of cookies the other day, so please feel free to grab a lollipop instead.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Heheh… first update in a long time! Please don't kill me…**

**This took much longer than I had anticipated… like a previous chapter in this series, it's based on two characters from my story Raised from Ashes. Enjoy! Please R&R, flames allowed.**

**I do not own Warriors. If I did, I would have invented kitty condoms for Leafpool and Crowfeather. I hope I didn't scare the younger audience… *bows head sheepishly***

Halt, who goes there?

Ah, it's only a little kit seeking for a story. Come here; my name is Dappleleaf, formerly of ThunderClan. Judging from your scent, you must have been from RiverClan before joining the ranks of StarClan. Well, don't be shy! I shall tell you a tale…

Yes, it is true; I once did take in a fox as my own son. But I haven't always felt that way.. .to tell you the truth, it was very hard… it was so long ago…

As I look upon my "son", I wondered what had possessed me to take him under my paws. I blamed it from the stress of losing my friends in battle to eating a very bad mouse. None of them made sense, until I finally admitted that only I was to blame.

And it was, quite frankly, a rather stupid move. I had no milk; I haven't had kits before! So why, in StarClan's name, did I volunteer to raise this creature… this fox?

Yes, a fox. Many would say that ThunderClan could not stoop even farther when the ancient Firestar took in many kittypets… but now Salmonstar has offered a small fox cub a place in the Clan. Lionclaw won't even look at me these days… Doesn't he love me anymore?

As I stared at Asheskit suckling greedily with Mapleleaf's two kits, I became lost in my own world. Not only it was cruel on my behalf and the reputation of the Clan, how would this fox survive in a forest where his kind was scorned? I shuddered at the thought. It was hard to see the savageness of foxes in this little tuff of blazing red fur, but one only had to look at his slanted amber eyes and sly smile to suppress a yowl. Mapleleaf looked up to me with wide amber eyes, drowsy as new queens usually were.

"Oh, Dappleleaf, that was a nice rabbit you brought me. You make a good mother." I suppressed a bitter purr. Huh, mother to the hated spawn. Mapleleaf blinked warmly and turned to one of her kits and nudged him affectionately. She was kind enough to Asheskit, but never had she glanced at him the same way. I was not not her fault; who would? "He's almost ready to become an apprentice," she said fondly. I realized that Asheskit was too. Tinykit and his weaker sister, Mistkit, were only born a few sunrises after the bloody affair with foxes. Mapleleaf caught my troubled stare. "Are you wondering of Asheskit's wellbeing?" she asked softly. I nodded, seeing no reason to lie.

"He is strong…. Perhaps a little too strong, but Asheskit will be fine," Mapleleaf purred. I managed a weak reply, sighing.

What will become of Asheskit?

"Tag, you're it!" wheezed Mistkit, barely touching Tinykit's shoulder with her paw.

"Aw, I was it last time!" Tinykit complained. "Asheskit, you be it!"

"Okay!" Asheskit squeaked in his rough speech. "Rawr!" Tinykit and Mistkit squealed as they scattered to different parts of the nursery. Asheskit snapped playfully at Mistkit's tail, and suddenly she gave a shriek. Mapleleaf immediately stopped chatting to Silvermist and bounded over.

"Oh, sweety-paws, what's the matter?" she crooned, licking Mistkit's head.

"Asheskit bit me!" she wailed. Mapleleaf turned to Asheskit, her eyes wary. The young cub blinked.

"Ah… Ah dedn't mean te!"

"It hurts!" Mistkit whined. "I'll never be a warrior!"

"There, there, you'll be fine. It stopped bleeding…" Mapleleaf comforted her daughter. Mistkit was reduced to sniffles and occasional hiccups, but she glared at Asheskit venomously.

"Fox!" she hissed, then spluttered into a series of coughs.

"Fox yeself!" Asheskit snapped back. "Ah, wot es ah fox?" There was a shocked silence as the queens glanced at each other. Silvermist spoke.

"You're a fox. A dirty, no-good fox who has no right to live among cats like us!" Silvermist hissed, narrowing her eyes. "Foxes don't belong here."

Asheskit shook his head. "No, no, dat can't beh!" he cried. "Ahm a cat! Ahm was born ah cat! Tell dem, Tinykit! Et ain't so!"

"I… I…" Tinykit stammered, shuffling his paws. And perhaps, he was suddenly realizing the differences between the creature he once called his brother and himself at the moment.

Asheskit gave a small howl that only a fox could produce from his throat and ran out of the nursery in a streak of red. "Asheskit!" Mapleleaf cried half-hearted fully. I think at this point, little one, she realized how much this fox meant to her. Alas, it was too late. He will always remember the way she looked upon her own kits, and how she had treated him with only polite affection. Those memories will scorch deep into his young, bitter heart.

I found him staring stonily at the ground as if it had done him wrong. I stepped up closer to him, hesitantly every moment, wishing with all my heart that I could just talk to him as easily to Fawnpaw, who visited Asheskit nearly every day.

"Asheskit?"

He turned to me, trembling like a leaf. "Is et true, Momma… Ah ahm different?" The tip of his nose was glistening, and I realized that he hadn't been staring at the ground; he was staring at his own reflection at a puddle from last night's storm. I winced inwardly, but he caught my expression.

"So it's true," he lamented, "Ahm a fox."

"Oh, Asheskit," I sighed, nuzzling his small shoulder. He took a step away.

"Don't! Ahm a dirty, gud-for-nuthin' fox!" he cried. I suppressed a small yowl of sorrow and circled him with my tail. Oh, he was so small and fluffy back then, just like you! So innocent as he pressed against me for comfort, yet so strange and otherworldly.

"Asheskit, look at the reflection." He peered at the water again. He blinked at the wavering reflection of his scarlet head and bright amber eyes. "Yes, you are different. But that doesn't mean you don't belong here. There is a certain beauty in being different; nobody has such an elegant, long nose or such queer amber eyes! I assure you, your tail is quite nice in cold winter days," I mewed, trying to think of compliments.

"Really?" He asked, pulling back to look at me square in the face hopefully.

There was no doubt in my heart or mind. He was truly beautiful. I ignored the large ears, the nose incrusted in mucus, or those unsightly whiskers. I can only think of his different sort of beauty.

"Yes, Asheskit. Never forget that you are different, but one day cats will receive you as who you are." He nodded earnestly, nudged me with his nose, and skipped back to the nursery to play with his friends. I stood there, watching as my son --- yes, now I felt that he was my son --- trotting happily away, all his worries gone for now.

But I watched, dear little kit, as he grew from the happy little cub to a bitter apprentice, constantly reminded of the heritage from his birth family. As his resentment grew each day, I wondered if my lesson to him all those seasons ago left the wrong imprint in him. He dwelled and fretted on his differences all too frequently, earning the dislike of many.

And I wondered… did I play a part in what he had become? Indeed, all the little events in life added up the ultimate sacrifice that he made.

I wish I could see him. Alas, even in StarClan we cannot view the fate of a creature outside of our own kind, especially your own son. I learned to love him like my own eventually. His cries were mine, his joy I shared. All things are connected in the end, little one.

And because everything is connected, I suppose I also played a part in his early demise.


	14. Chapter 14

**This is what happens when you go to sleep past midnight everyday with writer's block on your mind. I have always been intrigued by Goosefeather, despite of putting down Bluestar's Propechy halfway thru (I give up on the Warriors' series. The new ones are crap these days, pardon the language). The info is all based on what I have read on the Warriors Wiki.**

**I do not own Warriors. The stick would have been a rock, because sticks decompose after many years.**

**Chapter 14:**

"He was born with the stars in his eyes."

"Excuse me?"

"I said he_ was born with the stars in his eyes_."

"No, I heard you the first time, Marigoldflower."

"You did, but you did not hear the meaning, Bluestar."

"Explain."

"Indeed I shall, dear daughter*. StarClan is the beginning and after.

"We can only shape the middle."

StarClan's ways were mysterious, but there is not a doubt where kits originated.

Oh, of course a male and female come together and do all of that, but before was an another matter.

You see, kits were little pinpoints of twinkling light in the sky, wandering aimlessly as lost souls before suddenly latched onto a family on earth.

And then they forget that they were stars.

StarClan ruled before and after. They always have. They could make changes in the middle. But they could not change the fact, the crucial mistake in a tiny soul who landed on Earth unceremoniously.

He remembered being a star.

He was born with stars in his eyes. For his eyes.

"Momma, where's daddy?" his sister asked Moonkit asked in a quavering voice. Despite of being very bright, she'd always worried. He saw her aura as a pulsing thing, too bright to be contained.

"Hush, Moonkit, he's only hunting for our Clan."

"No," Goosekit mewed suddenly, genuinely surprised.

"What?"

"No, he's dead, 'memba? A badger got him a moon ago, and he died of infection."

Silence.

"Memba?"

The stars gave him the sight, and they blurred the lines sometimes between reality and the future.

A curse.

He saw disease.

"Wait! Mumblepaw, don't catch that vole!"

"Great StarClan, just because you're lazy doesn't mean I am."

"No, you don't understand—that vole- it's stuffed with crowfood. It ate something bad." The picture of the vole eating some horrible mush was vivid in his mind, as if he was there personally.

"… Whatever. Watch me as I waste a good vole, Goosepaw."

He probably saved Mumblepaw's life that day. Or at least his stomach.

But nobody knows. It was a beautiful yet terrible blessing.

But sometimes, the stars start getting fuzzy in his vision, and he can't see.

When he can't see, he panics.

There is no light. There is no future. He sees his own nightmares, none of which were true. He hated untruth.

And so, he was blamed for the failure at WindClan.

Moonflower died. He saw her die, he saw her soul rise up to StarClan, as bright as ever.

He wanted to say what he saw. What he always have seen.

The beauty, the grace, the horror, the death.

Before they were plunged into this evil world of terror and killing. That the spirals of nutring light that cared for them before were still out there somewhere.

That the future held much darkness, and they could prevent it if they listened to what he said.

But he didn't.

Nobody blames the stars.

"Like fire, you will blaze through the forest," he whispered in his den to himself, recalling Bluefur's shock and pity for him.

He tried to warn her. But he knew.

He saw pain, remorse, and fire.

He could see.

But she could not.

Those amber eyes.

"They mirror death," he said out loud. "He does not deserve to live." Nobody listened. Had he not said it loud enough?

This kit was going to kill many cats. Create chaos. Become a traitor.

Alas, nobody saw fault in kits.

Death took form of an eating, indestructible being in his mind. Not a suckling kit still at his mother's side. But when he saw this kit, he saw death's promise.

He was powerless. Curse the stars.

This kit.

He should have died.

He needs to die.

Sometimes he saw blue, like the sky on a beautiful day.

Blue was joy. Joy was blue.

The stars would dance.

And it was bearable.

"Would you like something for your aching feet, Goosefeather?"

Dear little apprentice. He couldn't remember her name, but he was gratefully as he shook his head politely. Something was pressuring his mind. Knowledge.

"I am going to die." The words were out of his mouth before he knew it.

A pause. "We all do, at some point, if I may saw, Goosefeather."

"No. I will die on the first snow of leaf-bare." The stars burned. "Nobody shall miss me. I understand. And when I do, I shall fade gladly to the sky, where the stars I see shall no longer be my eyes, but my whole being." He took a breath.

She looked at him with dark, solemn eyes. "I shall miss you, my elder. Wait for your stars.

"You'll be with them one day."

She vanished.

"Is he here?" Bluesetar asked, perplexed by the story behind the raving cat she had known nearly her whole life. Marigoldflower smiled.

"He is with our stars. Our youngest stars."

I have seen stars. They told me horrible things, things of greatness that behold in the future. But there was also great kindness and joy.

I think they told me truth.

However, I do not wish this sight on others. Truth is much better left to be unseen until the proper moment.

But sometimes, stars manifest by themselves, and grow into whorls of pulsing, energized light, unshining others with their own majestic beauty.

These stars, my friends, can either shine glory or chaos.

I shall say no more, but those truths I have seen, those truths, are mine.

Nobody else shall see.

Except… me. They are me.

**Well, please review after you're done reading! The apprentice is purely fictional. Perhaps she is a figment of her imagination, or some apprentice that never lived to her warrior ceremony. Flames are welcomed.**


End file.
